On Sundays I feel a little bit hungover
Last night I was drunk with the thought of you
Laying in your bed in your arms
The warmth spreading in my chest like alcohol
Positively dizzy with lust
Having to leave is like a premature walk of shame
I stumble like I'm lost
But I am far from ashamed

I wake up feeling like I'm still dreaming
I don't even know if I was or
I'm just replaying last night in my mind
In the shower I wash away the smell of your bedsheets,
clear lines dried on my skin that you traced
In the foggy mirror the passionate bruises are clouds
Pouring this need inside of me
And I feel like I'm overflowing, already falling

It can be hard to be alone
When I leave, I feel everything and nothing
I want to open the car door and run into the night
Clutch fist fulls of ice in both hands just to feel
I shiver within your absense
Because you were just right there
And it has effects like sudden withdraw
What I would give for a higher dose

Waiting is something I can't do
I'm eager and impatient and yours
The rest of the week I am moping
Practically ill with longing
Hoping the days will go quick
I am pathetic but truthful
I can't help but feel lovesick
While the world knows no cure